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letra de reload - tunnel rats

now ya crew is screamin like they see demons when i reload (scratched and repeated)

[verse 1: sojurn]
presently my pretense reputable repetitions of rap surround your
neck dont swallow yet youre hollow yet fulfilled while my ill liquid squid
youll get squashed and washed upon the sea shore line no more time for peace
its war time. unprepared so just get wet with rhyme on the battle line the
scene is shattered egos fragmented self esteem mutilated hope and broken
dreams scattered pieces of your peace of mind and shattered psyche is likely
unreparable battered b-boys litter the floor djs and mcs mangled and tangled
you can try your corner in the rap angle now youre in bad shape…junk
phonetic landscape fool when it comes to…time…so for the now tense your
tension cause by my unrelenting bending of your mental utensil will conintue
until you realize this mystic walks on the roads less traveled your insides
unraveled i clutch my rhyme clip to reload…

[verse 2: theory]
its constant conflict due to heads vacationing so a collision course
with forceful change is imminent this collaboration of divinely-inspired
retaliation triggers holographic self-deceiving hip-hop imitations. my songs
are now comprised of things ive come to realize like hip-hop rules forever im
lpg until i die wondering why so you try speculation on my demonstration of
how i rip an entire nation by relaying complex word configurations through
years of collective information i become the essence of intimidation it seems
my presence is an invitation for rumored conversation i bring forth
frustration to those who would oppose the creation of flos for invitation
into this christian congregation i react violently on tracks only unloading
boom…a form of peeled caps im out my clips tapped…

[verse 3: raphi]
theres no need for introduction call me destruction mental seduction
volcanic eruption theres no stoppin my reproduction cause time is running out
theres about to be another abduction now whats my function? it will be
revealed at the junction im the chef of this concoction to be auctioned off
in the streets i play the incognito spit verbal torpedo then i rage attacks
like…control movement of galaxies inside my backyard scarred by the
branding of stereotypes…i be on mics despite my adversaries plots behind
bars of a white page cage i capture thoughts when i rhyme i feel like a dime
thats surrounded by pennies see yall might be bigger than me but im still
worth more i got…and im writing rhymes that are frightening to the mind of
the feeble. when my bullets penetrate the villian there will be no
sequel…

- tunnel rats

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